


Sheriff Cullen

by DudaPie



Category: The Magnificent Seven (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Comedy? Bad Comedy? I suck at humour?, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, M/M, One Shot, i love these characters, just a sweet lil fic, no my friend she most definetly is not, you might start reading and think hey emma is straight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-05
Updated: 2017-05-05
Packaged: 2018-10-28 12:45:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10831548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DudaPie/pseuds/DudaPie
Summary: "Emma Cullen had been voted sheriff right after the battle for Rose Creek. After all, she had united the Seven and fought beside them, leading the people and putting herself at risk to help defending the land that was theirs"Life is calm in Rose Creek, and the arrival of a stranger allows Emma to show him what their small town really is about, and what the Magnificent Seven have been up to these days.





	Sheriff Cullen

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! This is my first fic ever in English. Feel free to let me know in the comments if I've made any weird mistake, because that kind of stuff happens.  
> Also my first ever fic about Mag7, and I dedicate it to my dear friend Isa, who dragged me into this fandom. I wanted to unite some headcanons that we discussed after I watched the film and so here this is! Thanks Isa, you are a sweet <3  
> I'd love some comments about the general plot to! I love these characters very much and I'd like to give them some good times and some fluffy ship-y stuff of course.  
> I had to create some OCs but yeah there we go. Hope y'all enjoy it!
> 
> PS: Since I'm not a native speaker, I couldn't include any characteristic wild-west sort of sentences and common sayings, which is a pity, but I don't think that has affected the story. Ok sorry I talk too much.

Emma Cullen had been voted sheriff right after the battle for Rose Creek. After all, she had united the Seven and fought beside them, leading the people and putting herself at risk to help defending the land that was theirs. Bartholomew Bogue, were he alive, should have nightmares with Sam Chisolm, but Bogue’s nightmares feared Emma.  
She was a woman and she was Rose Creek’s sheriff. That didn’t seem to bother anyone. Many men had died during the battle, and they were now a minority in the small town. Few of them protested her new position – this idea was suggested by Teddy Q, her best friend, and quickly supported by the Magnificent Seven, as well as all the young ladies that lived there. The admiration people felt for Emma was immeasurable.  
About five months after the bloody battle for the town, an outsider came to Rose Creek. His name was William Crawford and he was English. The arrival from Mr. Crawford attracted everyone’s attention. No one new arrived at Rose Creek, specially someone with such a noble and refined appearance.  
“He is living at the house near the shoemaker” informed Betsy Davidson, Emma’s friend, when both ladies were walking together after the Sunday morning mass “It’s a house way too big for a single person, don’t you think? He doesn’t seem to have any family”  
“What is such a man doing lost here in Rose Creek?”  
“Who knows? He must be tired of his tea and came in search of some American beauty” Betsy joked “You should talk to him, Emma, the poor fellow must be feeling out of place. Although, on second thought, he sure is”  
Emma chuckled and silently nodded in agreement.  
“But where do I take him? Rose Creek isn’t a big city. I’m sure he has already walked through the whole place by himself, it’s impossible to get lost”  
“Well, our town may not be great, but our people are. Knock on his door and ask him out for a nice talk. Find out what kind of man our new lord is”  
“If I don’t like his manners, I can send him away at once” Emma said playfully “Before he decides to cause any trouble”.

***  
Mr. William Crawford seemed to be a decent man. He was very polite to Emma and didn’t question her authority – the other inhabitants probably had already warned him about her importance in the town’s history.  
Besides that, he had showed interest in the Magnificent Seven. William Crawford had been in Rose Creek for just a few days and couldn’t help but listen to the stories told by his neighbors, during their brief moments of contact.  
Emma, after quickly showing Mr. Crawford the two most important spots in Rose Creek – which were the church and the sheriff’s office – took him to the third most notable place in town – the saloon.  
Not surprisingly, the protagonists of recent history could be found there – Goodnight Robicheaux, Billy Rocks, Joshua Faraday, Vasquez, Red Harvest, Jack Horne and Sam Chi-solm.  
As it was their habit, the seven men met at the saloon in the evening, to share the week’s adventures – such was the case for Faraday and Vasquez, who wandered off to nearby villages during the week, until they were chased back to Rose Creek.  
Billy and Goodnight seemed to be very well adjusted to Rose Creek. They lived together and even though Billy still received some funny looks, he wasn’t treated with rude-ness. The same goes for Sam and Red Harvest. The native American would disappear and go back to his tribe – his family – from time to time, but occasionally came back to Rose Creek after a few weeks.  
When Emma arrived at the saloon, many voices welcomed her and she waved her hand in response.  
“Attention everyone, this is our new resident, Mr. William Crawford. He is from London and I expect you all to greet him and to be kind”  
“Thank you, Ms. Cullen” the man replied, in a low tone, while the frequenters of the saloon cheered “I’m feeling I will adapt to this new lifestyle very quickly”  
Mr. Crawford smiled and Emma smiled back, with a feeling of duty fulfilled. She should not only care for her town’s safety and peace, but also for its people’s happiness. Emma was more than pleased to help the Englishman introduce himself into their little society.  
“Hey Mrs. Cullen!” shouted Faraday, waving his hat “Bring your English boy over here! We want to meet him!”  
“Are those…” Mr. Crawford started speaking but it was Emma who completed the sentence.  
“The Magnificent Seven. Yes, they are calling for us”  
“Dear Lord!”  
William Crawford walked quickly to the table, his curiosity showing through his facial expression. Emma followed him, very amused, and sat beside Jack Horne, who had offered her a chair. That separated her and William, making the newcomer sit between Faraday and Vasquez – a very uncomfortable for anyone.  
“Welcome to Rose Creek, son!” said Sam Chisolm “What brings you to these surroundings?”  
“Nothing special. I moved to Louisiana a few years ago to try to escape from the hectic metropolitan life. I stayed at New Orleans first, but than a friend of mine died and left me his house here in Rose Creek in his will” William an-swered, and turned to Emma “Do you happen to know him? He lived here fifteen years ago, his name was Samuel Thompson”  
“Yes, I surely do. I knew the house by the shoemaker was his, but I didn’t imagine you knew each other. We never heard from him after he moved to the big city”  
“And what do you do for a living, young man?” asked Jack Horne, honestly interested. Young man was an endearing nickname, since William was around Emma’s age “Did you leave everything behind in England to come and live in the middle of nowhere?”  
“Well, my father owns some titles of nobility in England” William replied, shyly “I graduated in Law, but I had never actually worked on the field until I came to America”  
Goodnight let out a short whistle and took a sip from his flask, immediately after offering it to Billy. Faraday and Vasquez laughed at the same time and exchanged playful looks, before the magician started talking.  
“So, we have a posh member to our group! This is a bit of a change, isn’t it Vas?”  
“Tell me about it, guëro. Mrs. Emma and old Robicheaux are the most civilized people we know, we hope not to offend you with our rude manners” agreed the Mexican, clearly the least sober at that moment.  
“I’m not as different as you think, I assure you” said Mr. Crawford, refusing a glass of drink that was being offered by Vasquez “I am made of flesh and bone just like you”  
“Flesh, bone and soul, do not forget the soul!” warned Jack Horne.  
Vasquez and Faraday quickly made a sign of the cross with fake solemnity, but started laughing again soon after. The old man looked around, looking for an explanation.  
“Too much drink” grumbled Red Harvest. Emma and Billy nodded in agreement.  
“Lord, what fools these mortals be!” Goodnight said, elegantly, with a chuckle after his speech. William immediately turned his head in Goodnight’s direction.  
“Am I mad or was that ‘A Midsummer Night’s dream’?”  
“Ah, I supposed you knew The Bard!”  
“William Shakespeare!”  
“The one and only” Goodnight completed, satisfied “Your namesake and my favorite Billy”  
“Hey!” said the man who sat by his side.  
“Pardon, mon cher, but Shakespeare is my oldest love, you could never win him over”  
“Wait, are you Billy Rocks?” asked William “I never would have guessed”  
“You mean you would have never guessed that I’m not white?”  
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude, sir…”  
Billy just stared quietly at the newcomer and the whole ta-ble became tense, even Emma. Billy was silent and cold, and if he was staring at you, you were dead.  
However, the former assassin just waved his head and laughed a light chuckle. He went back into reclining in his chair and took the flask from Goody’s hands.  
“I was just kidding. I wanted to see your scared face” Billy explained “You didn’t offend me. I’ve heard worse things from worse people”  
“Well, you did manage scare me!” William said, laughing out of sheer nervousness “I heard all of your stories and please, let me just say it is by far the bravest act I’ve ever heard of”  
“We did what was just for people who are just” Sam Chisolm commented, and all the others murmured in agreement.  
“It’s fascinating. Mr. Rocks, is it true what they say about your abilities? Did you really kill a man with a hairpin?”  
“It is nothing but the truth!” Goodnight answered, putting one arm around his partner’s waist “Billy here could hit you faster than you could say ‘What the hell was that?’”  
“He is good” said Red Harvest, solemnly “Show it”  
Billy shrugged and with one quick movement he threw the hairpin that was in his hair into the saloon’s wall, scarring the man who was drinking whisky at the bar.  
“Olé!” exclaimed Vasquez standing up and clapping. Faraday copied the gesture.  
William Crawford was shocked, impressed and very scared by the demonstration. Emma, Sam and Jack laughed, while Billy made a small reverence and smile to thank the applauses – that was as close to emotion he would get. Goody had a broad grin on his face and stared firmly at the other man.  
“I think I should rethink that thing about ‘my favorite Billy’”  
“I bet Shakespeare couldn’t do this” Billy grunted, pretending to still be offended.  
“Oh, come on, your name isn’t even Billy” Faraday mum-bled out loud “Why do you call yourself Billy Rocks?”  
“Because I want to. And because none of you could pro-nounce my real Korean name”  
“That sounds like a challenge to me!”  
“Son, don’t be that confident” warned Sam Chisolm “You barely speak English”  
“White men…” murmured Red Harvest, glancing with sympathy to Billy.  
“Listen, just because I didn’t know what a syllable was when old Goody here was vomiting complicated words onto us doesn’t mean I don’t speak English. Besides that, I’m improving. Miss Fletcher, the school teacher, taught me some things yesterday”  
Emma raised an eyebrow, wondering if she should or not worry about the proximity between Miss Fletcher and Faraday. Vasquez was probably thinking the same.  
“What were you doing with Miss Fletcher yesterday?”  
“That’s none of your damn business, Vas. But now I know what a syllable is”  
“And what would that be?” asked Jack Horne with a hopeful look.  
“That’s the fancy name we give to the lines in a poem, right?”  
A collective grumble of disappointment came from those sitting at the table.  
“Is it wrong?” asked Faraday.  
“Sorry, ami. But at least you tried, that’s an improvement” Goodnight comforted.  
“Well, let’s just say I wasn’t exactly paying attention to what Miss Fletcher was saying”

***  
A few hours passed. A group of musicians arrived at the saloon and started playing, bringing ladies and their partners to dance along to the music.  
Faraday eventually convinced Billy to teach him his real name, which resulted in Faraday being tricked and repeating the phrase “I’m a young lady” in Korean many, many times.  
Jack Horne left after it got dark, claiming to be “too old for this kind of fooling around”, but wished everyone a nice evening. Red Harvest stayed outside the saloon, walking alone and talking to himself in Comanche.  
Teddy Q was eventually pushed to dance with Betsy Davidson, and both greeted Emma when they arrived. The sheriff was sitting alone at a table, watching the scene. William Crawford had gone back to his house, after thanking everyone for the evening chat.  
William was shy when talking, almost as if he didn’t know how to engage in conversation with those people, so dif-ferent from the social circle he was used to. Emma found it amusing. Matthew was also not from Rose Creek, and when he arrived at the town he went through the same adapting process. Even after they got married he some-times seemed unsure of how to talk. It was adorable.  
Lost in her thoughts, Emma barely noticed when Goodnight Robicheaux pulled a chair and sat by her side.  
“Hello Mrs. Cullen. Do you mind if I sit here for a while? My leg isn’t the same as before, you know, and those little ladies are an energetic bunch” asked the man, polite as al-ways.  
He then made a head movement to indicate a group of girls, no older than ten years old. Emma had noticed that Goodnight had been teaching them how to dance, while their parents were distracted, spinning around the saloon.  
“I believe you have found yourself a group of admirers, Mr. Robicheaux”  
“It is a natural gift, I presume” the man laughed as he pulled a second chair to lay his hurt leg upon “You seemed pensive, Mrs. Cullen. Is something bothering you?”  
“No, I wouldn’t say it’s bothering me. I’ve just been thinking about Matthew”  
“Oh” Goodnight went silent for a few moments, unsure of how to continue “Good thoughts or bad thoughts?”  
“Good thoughts. It’s been almost six months since he died, but it feels like decades ago”  
“It doesn’t make it any easier to bear the grief, I suppose”  
“Not at all” Emma smiled faintly “But he wouldn’t want me crying around. He would wish me a happy life, even without him”  
“Crying over past disgraces is the safest way to attract new ones, as The Bard used to say. Sometimes I think we should listen more to good old Shakespeare…”  
His words faded into the air and his eyes became distant, but not sad. The war hero got himself lost in his thoughts easier then Emma, therefore she wasn’t really bothered when he stopped talking, not realizing he had left the conversation unfinished.  
Goody was brought back into the real world when Vasquez showed up in front of them with his arms opened.  
“Mrs. Cullen, how about a dance? You haven’t left this chair the whole evening, you’re going to grow roots on the floor!”  
“I don’t really feel like dancing, Vasquez, thank you very much. Mr. Robicheaux and I were talking”  
“Ah yes, indeed we were” said the other man, blinking a few times.  
“Very well” the Mexican shrugged and turned around “Hey, mi amor, do you have a partner?”  
He went back to the middle of the saloon while the music didn’t start, and the object of his attention was a girl who was already being targeted by Faraday. Goodnight watched the scene with a certain amusement, but seemed to pity the lady, who ended up dancing with both Faraday and Vasquez at the same time, going from the arms of one to the arms of the other in between the sounds of the violins.  
“Poor thing. Mrs. Cullen, here comes the advice from an old and experienced man: don’t let yourself go by these charming young boys. They are not worth the trouble they cause”  
“Don’t worry, Goody. I was married and I know how men behave” Emma reassured him with a small chuckle “Also, I don’t expect to get married again, but if I do, it won’t be to one of them”  
“That’s the best thing to do. Boys are terrible”

***  
Red Harvest was sitting on the wooden steps outside that led to the saloon. He had found some pieces of wood and his knife, and was now carving some arrows for his arsenal. His life was much calmer now, but one never knows when one might need some arrows – not until it’s too late.  
The music outside wasn’t a distraction, and Red ignored everything that happened around him, mind focused on his activity. He eventually heard footsteps and lifted his head to see who was it. Billy Rocks was on his way back into the saloon, and greeted Red with a quick touch on his hat as he walked by.  
Only then Red Harvest noticed that he was being watched. Three pairs of bright blue eyes were observing him from a dark corner of the wooden porch. The three girls were very similar looking, and were probably sisters – although, for Red, white people were usually very similar.  
“Do you want something?” he asked slowly “You can come closer. I don’t bite children”  
All together in a group and whispering to each other, the three little girls sat beside Red, holding their chins over their hands, each of them seemingly interested on a different aspect of the man. The youngest looked at his knife and the delicacy of his moves. The middle one examined his hands and the color of his skin. The oldest girl was interested on his necklace and his peculiar clothing.  
Red Harvest didn’t mind the attention. People from Rose Creek usually looked at him twice when he walked around the town, and his fellows Comanches said he was a fool for sticking around with them. But Red trusted Sam Chisolm and Sam said those were good people, so Red stayed.  
After a few minutes, an older girl appeared. She was around eighteen years old and seemed to be very angry.  
“Jemima, Peggy, Victoria! What are you doing? First, you go dancing with Mr. Robicheaux and now you are derang-ing this man’s work?” she said, pulling two of her sisters by their arms “Soon the entire town will hate you! I am terribly sorry, sir, these girls are terrible. They escaped from me and…”  
“They are not deranging me” said Red, abandoning his ar-rows for a moment. He looked at the other girl and contin-ued to speak “Your name”  
“I beg your pardon?”  
“What is your name?”  
“I-Isabel”  
“Sit here too”  
Jemima, Peggy and Victoria exchanged looks and laughed. Isabel pinched the oldest girl’s arm – that was Victoria- and gave the three of them a severe look, that substituted a reprimand. However, she shyly started to watch Red Harvest work on his arrows, until Jemima asked:  
“Can we touch your hair?”  
“Jem! He’s not an animal!”  
“You can” answered Red, to Isabel’s surprise.  
“Yay!”  
Jemima climbed to the upper step and sat behind Red, immediately putting her hands on his hand, seemingly enjoying the contrast between the shaved parts of his scalp and his short hair. Red realized he wouldn’t be able to con-tinue making his arrows, so he just left them by his side. He leaned forward, resting his arms over his knees and turned his head to look at Isabel.  
“I have sisters too”  
“How fantastic! Are they kids?”  
Red nodded in agreement. He pointed to an oil lamp that was hanging next to the saloon’s door.  
“Bring it here” he said, and Isabel quickly obeyed, bringing him the object.  
The man put the lamp by his side and then turned around, facing the wall. The four girls formed a circle and watched him with curiosity.  
Red moved one hand over the other, and the shadow they casted over the wall resembled a rooster. He began to imi-tate the animal’s sound, and the girls laughed. After that, his hands formed the shadow of a dog, and Red howled.  
Some time passed like this, with Red casting shadows on the wall and telling stories in his mother tongue. None of the four ladies understood a word of what he said, but his intonation was enough to keep them interested. Peggy was the first one to fall asleep, bravely laying her head on the warrior’s lap. Her sisters soon did the same and in the end, Isabel was the only one awake.  
“Nothing you just said made any sense to me” she said, between yawns “but I would love to hear it again. What were you telling us?”  
Red smiled and indicated the sleeping girls with one look.  
“Bedtime stories”

***  
Billy was the last one to enter the saloon.  
He went straight to the table where Goody and Emma were chatting. Billy had a bottle of rum on his hand, for no apparent reason, since he wasn’t drinking from it. Goodnight made a movement to pull his leg away from the chair he was using as support, but Billy stopped him, grabbing a chair for himself and sitting beside his partner.  
“Are you alright, Mr. Rocks? It looks like you were rolling around the floor with a coyote” Emma commented, refer-encing the messy state of Billy’s hair and clothes.  
“A drunk man was saying disgusting things to a lady trying to escape from him” Billy answered, raising the bottle his was holding, as if it was a prize.  
“Please, tell me you didn’t kill him” said Goody, not entirely serious “You need to learn how to behave, mon coeur”  
“I didn’t kill him”  
“Why didn’t you warn me? I’m the sheriff, I’m the one who deals with this kind of situation” Emma asked, in a quite severe tone of voice.  
“I was going to call you, but then the man would be saying disgusting things to you. And then I would need to kill him”  
“Fair enough” Goodnight observed, failing to hide his pride “Turn around, cher, your hair is a mess. Let me take care of it”  
Billy did as Goody said. Goody took his hairpins out of his hair and started combing it with his fingers. The music began to play again, slower now, and some men started singing along with the melody.  
“The day what belongs to the day—at night the party of young fellows, robust, friendly, Singing with open mouths their strong melodious songs” Goodnight recited, as he finished tying his partner’s hair again “What do you have to say about it, Billy?”  
“This is not Shakespeare”  
“I’m asking about your hair”  
“It has been better”  
“Whose poem is this?” asked Emma.  
“Walt Whitman. It’s called ‘I hear America singing’”  
“He is your second love, I suppose” Billy murmured.  
“I’ve never heard of him” said the sheriff.  
“Oh, he is just fantastic, Mrs. Cullen. I could spend hours reciting his verses!”  
“Please, don’t” Billy said and was successfully ignored, since Goodnight started talking again, this time with more emotion.  
“Passing stranger! you do not know how longingly I look upon you,  
You must be he I was seeking, or she I was seeking, (it comes to me as of a dream,)  
I have somewhere surely lived a life of joy with you,  
All is recall’d as we flit by each other, fluid, affectionate, chaste, matured,  
You grew up with me, were a boy with me or a girl with me,  
I ate with you and slept with you…”

“Is this how the poem ends?” Emma asked, as Goodnight went silent.  
“No. I just forgot the rest of it” answered the man “I shall remember it soon and tell you, Mrs. Cullen”  
“Are you getting rusty, Goody?” Billy asked playfully, cross-ing his arms.  
“If you don’t stop complaining, I’ll show you what’s not rusted, dear Mr. Rocks…”  
The empty threat was followed by the two men laughing out loud. Emma had never seen Billy laugh that way – in fact, she didn’t even think it was possible for him to laugh so much, and the sound caught her off guard.

***  
“Do you want to dance, Emma?”  
Betsy Davidson was standing in front of the sheriff. Most of the frequenters of the saloon were already gone to their re-spective houses. It was late in the night and the owls hooted outside.  
“There’s no music, Betsy” Emma noticed.  
“We can imagine one. Come on!”  
Emma gave it a shrug and stood up, holding her friend’s hand. The two of them danced around the saloon, humming some song that had been played that same evening. Soon they started to stumble because Emma lost track of the music and stepped on her own foot.  
“Dear Lord, you have your head in the clouds today, Em-ma!” Betsy exclaimed, holding her partner by her arms “What’s wrong with you?”  
“I’m just thinking”  
“Thinking of what, exactly?”  
The sheriff looked around. Few people were still at the sa-loon. Through the window, Emma could see Red Harvest talking to a young girl. Goodnight and Billy had isolated themselves at a corner of the saloon, talking in a low tone. Vasquez and Faraday had fallen asleep on the floor, side by side. Sam Chisolm, sitting on a chair next to them, talked to a man at the bar. Some other people wondered around, biding each other goodnight and walking out of the saloon.  
The mountains around them were just as dark as the night sky, and all of Rose Creek was quiet.  
Emma sighed, breathing in the dry air of her hometown and breathing out a mix of satisfaction and happiness.  
“I’m just thinking. Rose Creek sure is beautiful by night, isn’t it?”

**Author's Note:**

> NOTES:  
> *Mon coeur = my heart, french  
> *Mon cher = my dear, french  
> *Mi amor = my love, spanish  
> (I wish I could speak korean to write Billy groaning shit but nope, I'll stick with french and spanish. Also, I imagine Billy to be korean because the actor who plays him is korean)  
> So, was it terrible? Was it ok? Did I make anyone laugh? I hope you guys enjoyed it, and please, comments are welcome!  
> ALSO:  
> I know the last Shakespeare quote Goody mentions, "Crying over past disgraces is the safest way to attract new ones" was a quote I found in portuguese (my native language) but couldn't find it in the original english version, so this might not be the actual phrase Shakespeare used (it might also not exist and the website were I found it was just being a dick and putting random phrases there)  
> And the real reason Goody didn't complete his poem is because the next verses are bit nsfw and he would never say such things in front of Emma.


End file.
